“That’s pretty good money. Why’s it worth so much, Alex?”
“I’ve told you why. The engraving uses symbols nobody’s seen before. We don’t know the source.”
“It was probably just somebody screwing around.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re really willing to pay that much?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm.” I saw lights on the ocean. A cruise ship several kilometers to port. “Brian, what do you think?”
“Alex,” I said, “they’ve opened the door.”
We got Brian’s voice: “The money sounds pretty good, Doug. Maybe we ought to—Oops!” Something tumbled out into the sky and began a long fall toward the ocean. “Damn,” said Brian. “Dropped it.”
“Chase, get a fix.”
“Already done, Alex.”
The container disappeared into the dark.
Alex stared at the radio. “How could you guys be so dumb?”
“Look, Benedict.” Doug’s voice had acquired an edge. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you want. I really am. But it’s gone now. So I guess that’s the end of it.”
They were making a long turn, starting back toward the mainland. I was still staring down at the sea.
So we rounded up Audree again, and, accompanied by a pair of Environmental Service specialists, we went back out a couple of days later on the Shanley, one of the agency’s all-purpose vehicles. To get the Shanley, Audree had filed a statement alleging that an archeological “object” was believed to be lying on the ocean floor.
There was nothing in sight that morning except sea and sky. When we got into the area, we descended to an altitude of about a hundred meters and began scanning.
The cabin was a tight fit for five people. I was used to the relatively ample accommodations of the Belle-Marie, or, for that matter, any starship. Even the smallest of the superluminals would have been downright spacious contrasted with the APV.
The specialists were Kira Quong, the pilot, and Bailey Anderson, who oversaw the search and retrieval systems. Bailey was a big guy with a good smile whom I immediately liked. Kira was almost as tall as he was, one of the tallest women I’ve ever seen. They were the last two people on the planet you’d want to cram into that cabin. Other than size, Kira was the polar opposite of Bailey, intense, businesslike, no visible sense of humor.
“If you’re going to dump something offshore,” Kira said, “they picked a good spot. The ocean’s fairly deep here. A bit over four kilometers.”
We stayed in the air, circling the site while Bailey tried to find the packing case. “The currents are strong in the area,” he said. “It could have drifted a long way before hitting bottom.” His attention was entirely focused on his screens while he flipped switches and adjusted contrasts. “Do you guys,” he asked, “have any idea how much the case weighed?”
“It needed two guys to lift,” said Alex. “I’d guess probably a couple of hundred pounds.”
“It should have gone directly to the bottom,” I said.
Bailey shook his head. “Not necessarily. In these currents, even a brick could travel a fair distance.” He touched a pad, and the screens went dark.
“How can you see anything?” I asked.
“Anything artificial down there will light up.”
“Anything?”
“Well, anything you’d make a packing case from.”
“There’s something now.” In fact, two blinkers had appeared on the screen.
Bailey tapped his finger on one. “Probably wreckage from a boat. Looks like a spar. That one is a piece of electrical equipment, I think.” He studied the picture, made more adjustments. “Yeah, that’s got to be what it is. In any case, it’s not a box.”
“What if it’s buried in the sea bottom, Bailey?” I asked.
“Won’t matter. We can see through the mud.”
Kira looked up from her station. “No question about that,” she said, in a flat voice. “If it’s covered with mud, Bailey will see it.”
Alex looked my way and signaled to be careful. It looked as if we had a broken relationship here. The disquiet in the craft picked up, there was some glaring back and forth, and Bailey’s smile became strained.
We circled the area for more than an hour. “It takes time,” Audree said. “If it’s there, we’ll find it. It’s just a matter of patience.”
Blinkers appeared continually on the display. Bailey studied each one, shook his head, and stored the image so it wouldn’t reappear. Eventually, he hesitated over one, enlarged it, and put his finger on it. He touched a control pad, and numbers showed up on a sideboard. He leaned forward, studied the image, considered the numbers, and nodded. “There it is,” he said.
“You sure?” asked Alex.
“Well, not absolutely. Can’t be positive till we go down and look. But it’s the right configuration.”
“Can we see inside it?” asked Alex.
Bailey shook his head. “Negative.”
“Okay, Kira,” said Audree. “Let’s go.”
Kira’s fingers danced across the controls, the tone of the engines changed, the soft hum of power in the bulkheads became more audible and, somewhere, hatches locked. The Shanley eased down onto the surface. We floated for a few moments. Then the water was washing over us, and we began to submerge.
Bailey kept the image on-screen. Kira flipped a switch, and external lights came on. A few fish showed up. “Everybody stay seated,” she said. Her eyes flicked across Bailey, who stared steadily at his monitors. There were more fish. Something big and blubbery passed us on my side. The water got dark.
Bailey read off the depths as we went. “Four hundred.”
“Five hundred.”
“In case you’re wondering,” Audree said, “we’re locked on the container.”
Bailey had a better picture by then. He asked Alex whether it matched the package the two men had carried out of the condo. It did.
Pressure built in my ears as we descended. We were going down at a steep angle, and every now and then the bulkheads creaked. I wondered how deep the Shanley could go. Four kilometers sounded pretty far down, but I assured myself Audree wouldn’t take any risks.
She was enjoying herself. She took full advantage of the opportunity to show off her position for Alex. Her demeanor had changed somewhat. Her voice had taken on a note of authority, and she submerged herself—forgive the pun—in overseeing the operation. Not that she did any micro-managing. She was far too smart for anything like that. But there was never any doubt who was in charge of the operation.
We hit thirty-seven hundred meters and began to level off. Gradually, the lights picked up the bottom and played against the mud. Something darted past us.
“It’s dead ahead,” said Bailey. The tension between him and the pilot had not abated, and I was thinking there should be a rule against people who were emotionally involved with each other being on the same crew. At least when they were operating an APV.
“There it is,” Kira said. I didn’t see anything, but Bailey’s panel was beginning to beep.
“I got it,” he said.
The lights picked it up. A rectangular gray container. It was about two feet high, lying on its side. Audree looked over her shoulder at Alex.
“That’s it,” he said.
It lay half-buried.
“It’s yours, Kira,” said Bailey. He tried to get some warmth into his voice.
“I have it,” she said. “Everybody stay seated, please.” We drifted slightly to port. The packing case vanished beneath us, then was picked up by a new set of scanners.
Kira shut down all forward motion, although the currents continued to push against us. “Morley,” she said.
Morley was the AI. “Yes, Kira?”
“Initiate retrieval.”
Four robotic arms appeared. They locked onto the case and lifted it out of the mud.
We heard a hatch open. Moments later, it closed. “Retrieval completed,
Kira,” Morley said.
Audree smiled at Alex. “Let’s go topside.”
We had to wait until we were on the surface to get at the case. The lid was cracked, and the box had filled with water. “Probably happened when it hit the surface,” Kira said.
Alex and Bailey turned it on its side and dumped the water out of it. Then Alex found a catch, released it, and removed the lid. My angle wouldn’t let me see, but I heard him grunt. He reached in, pulled out some blanket that had been used for packing. And then removed a brick. “There are more in here if anybody’s interested.”
NINE
Time will reveal whatever is hidden, and it will hide and bury whatever now calls forth splendor.
—Horace, Epistles
Alex doesn’t usually show a lot of emotion, but he tossed everything back into the ocean, returned to his seat, and took to staring listlessly out the window.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Audree said.
“No.” He managed a smile. “She’s playing games with us.”
“This Rachel has a sick sense of humor.”
“She wants me to give up and go away.”
Audree smiled. “Not used to that kind of treatment from attractive women, are we?”
Alex squeezed her hand and opened his link. “Connect me with Cory,” he said to it.
Audree turned my way. “Who’s Cory?”
“He runs the Antiquity Research Service in West Arkon. Among other things, they can do analyses to determine the age of artifacts—”
“But you don’t have the artifact.”
“That’s right.”
“So—?”
Alex shushed us. “Cory?”
I heard a voice respond. Alex listened. Then: “Got a question for you. We’ve been tracking a marker of unknown origin. We have pictures of it. It looks like something you’d find in a cemetery. Except it has more extensive engraving. Three lines of symbols. It’s probably pretty old. Centuries. Maybe more. Do you think you can get an age estimate on the thing based on pictures?”
The voice replied.
“No,” said Alex, “I don’t think we can get the object itself. We’ve been trying.”
And: “It’s a long story. You really don’t want to hear about the details. Is it possible to get an estimate from the pictures?”
And: “Okay. Hold on a minute. We have two. I’ll send them to you.” He transmitted the images, listened for a minute, said okay, and closed the link.
We hit an air pocket, and the APV bounced around. “Didn’t see that one coming,” said Kira.
“Been a long day,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood. Audree agreed that it had been. And somebody else, I forget who, observed that rain was expected in the Andiquar area that night. Then Alex’s link beeped.
“Go ahead, Corey.”
The cabin went dead silent. I guess we were all listening, trying to hear what was being said at the other end. “Okay,” Alex said, “I guess that’s what I thought.”
Then, a moment later: “If I can figure out a way to do that, I’ll get it to you.”
And, finally: “Right, Corey. Thanks.”
“No luck?” said Audree.
“No. They need 3-D with good definition.”
“Maybe we could burgle the condo,” I said.
Alex was in no mood for humor. “You’d be just the person for the job. But there might be something we can do.”
He made an appointment with Madeleine Greengrass, and two hours later we descended onto the pad at number 12, Gold Range. Madeleine had seen us coming, and she was waiting for us when we got to the front door. “Mr. Benedict,” she gushed, “I’m honored to meet you.” The laid-back, casual charmer of my first meeting was gone, overwhelmed by Alex’s celebrity.
She took us inside, where she asked if we’d like something to drink. “Thank you, no,” said Alex. “We’re on the run at the moment.”
“You’re still interested in that rock,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry I let it get away. If I’d known you wanted it, I’d have held on to it. But it was such an eyesore, Mr. Benedict. It was just something I wanted to get rid of.”
“Of course,” he said. “I understand.”
“Did you find the people who took it?” She looked my way as if I were somehow responsible.
“It’s complicated,” Alex said. “You posted two pictures at the site.”
“Yes. That’s right. I have them if you’d like to see them.”
“No, we have them, too. But those pictures weren’t originals. Right? The engravings were pretty badly worn. So you smoothed it out.”
“Yes,” she said. “I didn’t think there was any problem with doing that since I wasn’t asking any money for it. I just wanted to get rid of it.”
“Do you have the original pictures?”
She frowned, and we had the answer. “They became the cleaned-up copies. I saw no point in making an extra set.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive, Mr. Benedict.”
“All right: One final question?”
“Sure.”
“How big was this thing?”
She held her hand to indicate something a bit more than waist high.
Alex left with a client to evaluate an exhibition set up by the Tempus Institute. He was just lifting away when Jacob announced a call. “Franz Koeffler,” he said. “A reporter. He wants to speak with Alex.”
“Put him through, Jacob,” I said.
I knew Koeffler, though not well. He worked for Transoceanic News, for whom he wrote a column that usually combined science and politics. He was about average size, a little on the heavy side, and had a mildly rumpled look. He spoke with a gravitas that implied his views were not to be taken lightly. Despite that, somehow, he managed to be self-effacing and easy to get along with. He’d become especially interested in Alex over the past couple of years, and had written extensively about the Seeker, and about our trip to Salud Afar. He was likable, though, maybe because there was something of the little kid in him.
He blinked on. He was standing with his rear end propped against a desk. “Chase,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
“Hello, Franz. Alex isn’t available at the moment. Can I help you?”
“Probably. How about telling me what Alex is after this time?”
I tried to look puzzled. “What are we talking about, Franz?”
“Come on, Chase. We know each other too well to play games. Your boss has a talent for uncovering huge stories. What’s he working on now?”
“I don’t think anything special. I know he’s been interested in the Longworth Ruby.” Which, of course, had been worn by Isabella Longworth while she guided the City on the Crag to greatness two thousand years ago. It had disappeared during the assassination and was periodically reported as having been in one place or another over the centuries, but no one could confirm the claims, and nobody had had any luck running it down.
“Sunset Tuttle,” he said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Chase, if you’re not going to talk to me, I’ll just go with what I have. Did Tuttle find something after all?”
“Franz, maybe you need to talk to Alex. I don’t know anything about this.”
“Okay. Have it your way.” He stood up. Shrugged. Looked disappointed. “Chase, I thought I could count on you.”
He was about to blink off, but I stopped him. “Wait, Franz. How much do you know?”
“Just enough to whet my appetite. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? I won’t publish anything until you clear it.”
“I’m not free to do that, Franz.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Look. Whatever you have right now: Sit on it. The truth is, we don’t know whether we have anything or not.”
“Aliens?”
“I don’t think so. There’s an outside chance, but I’m pretty sure nothing will come of it. Anyhow, go al
ong with us. If we get a story out of this, Alex will invite you in for an interview.”
“Exclusive?”
“Yes. Of course, we probably wouldn’t be able to hold the story back.”
He made it look like a painful decision. “When will we know?”
“It’s going to take a while.”
That night, as I slid between the sheets and the lights dimmed, I found myself wishing that we’d never seen the Greengrass posting. It had become simply a matter of Alex’s wanting to satisfy his curiosity about someone’s irrational behavior. There could be no reasonable explanation for what had been happening. At least none that would matter to us. At that point, I just wanted Rachel and her tablet to go away.
Rainbow doesn’t keep early hours. Though I’ve made a habit of arriving at nine most mornings, there’s no requirement that I do so. Alex has always been concerned with productivity rather than with time spent hanging around the office.
Next morning, though, I think I broke some sort of record getting in. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was hoping Alex would say, “Take the day off, and by the way, we’re moving on. We’re giving up on the tablet.” It was just past dawn when I left my own place. Ten minutes later, I landed at the country house, strolled up to the front door, and said hello to Jacob.
“I’m surprised to see you here so early,” the AI said. He could not keep the smug quality out of his voice. He opened up, and I walked in.
“I don’t guess Alex is up yet?” I said.
“That’s correct. Do you wish me to wake him?”
“No,” I said. “That’s not necessary.”
“As you prefer. As soon as he’s awake, I’ll notify him that you’re here.” He paused. “Would you like some breakfast?”
I settled in with pancakes and strawberries. I was finishing when the shower turned on upstairs, and a few minutes later Audree appeared. “He’ll be right down,” she said. She was surprised to find me.
Jacob got her some coffee and toast. “How’s he doing?” I asked.
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